It May Be Just a Game
by The Twilight Star
Summary: One locked room, tense emotions and a gene. What more do we need? Sheyla, one-shot


She didn't know what to think when she had first met him. Sure, he was sometimes rash and impulsive, along with cold and emotionless. But all of that was understandable.

He had come to rescue his people, and ending up saving hers as well. She was indebted to him for that. She ended up finding the City of the Ancestors. It was as wonderful as it was told in the legends. And now, she was helping Major Sheppard and his people try and find a way to defeat the Wraith, her people's most deadly enemy.

She hadn't always been this way. It wasn't until Dr. Weir asked if he could learn how to use the art of thetonfa. She had been obligated to oblige. It was more a way to find out about his people than for him to learn about hers.

And it was time again for her to spar with him. Hopefully he would have improved since last time. She would have to insist that the major practice more often.

She entered the training gym, early as usual and in her training outfit. He had asked her about it once, and she had no answer. She had answered as truthfully as she could, saying that the outfit was easier to move in.

Several minutes later, he entered in his black shirt and trousers. Teyla greeted him with a nod of her head.

"I hope you have practiced Major."

"Well, I have. You just keep beating me." He smirked at her, setting his bag beside hers and sitting down beside her.

"The goal, Major, is not to win. Not now at least." She reminded him time and time again of that. She hoped that he was at least listening.

"Well, let's get started." After moments of silence, it was he who broke it.

* * *

It was Teyla who stood up first. She grabbed her tonfa and moved out onto the floor. He followed soon after. He twirled them,a bit, as if to test them. And then it began.

He liked to think of it as a game. It was a game he was always learning about. He would walk cautiously around, she following him, her calm face in a small smile, as if to intimidate him. It was usual he who struck first, only to have it parried. Several blows later, he would wind up in some defeated position. So he smirked back, and hoped that she would take the bait.

But she didn't. Not at first. Deciding to join their game, she quickly stuck first. He saw the move that would come after, and he quickly parried using one tonfa, before locking them both in a block, preventing him from hitting her, and preventing her from hitting him.

"I see you have indeed practiced, Major." Her voice made his knees go just a tiny bit weaker.

"Not really. I've just been thinking about it." He managed to answer back.

"Apparently, not long enough." Several seconds later, her tonfa were to his throat in a chokehold, and she was behind him. He would never have thought of anywhere else he would rather be, his head beneath her chest, her legs holding him in place.

"Well, I had to try." He said, and she let go, although he could have sensed reluctance in it.

They broke apart for a small break. Mostly, it was for his sake, as she didn't need it from what he saw.

He took the brief amount of time to remember his fantasies of her at night. His latest one had left a mark that he was trying to forget. He still had to get it off his bed.

"Major?" Her voice seemed so close. He turned his head to see her sitting next to him.

"Major, are you alright? You seemed distant for a moment." Her look of concern left him speechless, like a dog.

"Me? I'm fine. Really. Let's have another round." She nodded solemnly, and returned to the sparring area.

Just as he was about to attack, a flash caught his eye. He whirled around to see the doors closing. He dropped his tonfa and ran to the door, trying to find out what was wrong.

* * *

"Major? Major can you hear me?" Dr. Weir's voice came over the intercom.

"Yeah. What's going on?" John was annoyed. The doors were locked and they weren't responding to the gene.

"Well, apparently someone got into the locking mainframe on the Ancient database. They have locked your sector down. It'll be down for a few hours while McKay tries to fix it." A grumble, which both Teyla and John recognized as Rodney McKay came from the background.

"So we are to stay here?" Teyla asked.

"Until we fix this problem, yes. I'll bring updates whenever I can." The intercom clicked off, leaving a very irritated John and a calm Teyla in the locked room.

"Major, can you at least try again to unlock the door or to see if there is anything else you can use to get us out?" Teyla asked. He couldn't refuse.

* * *

He closed his eyes and tried. She knew he tried. But nothing happened. She let out an inward sigh; careful not to show anything that might betray her emotions.

She sat down again and thought. She thought of the dreams that had been plaguing her. Dreams about him. Her last dream had been quite a bit, intense. It seemed so real. But she knew that there was no way that he could possible feel the same way for her.

"Well, since nothing is happening, we should get comfortable in case McKay doesn't get it right away." The Major said, sitting next to her, unconsciously putting his hand on top of hers. She didn't move it away. Instead, she spoke.

"Have faith in Dr. McKay, Major."

"Yeah right." He snorted. "Rodney, the magic gene man. That would be funny."

"We must have faith that Dr. Weir is doing anything to get us out of here. But I do hope that it is soon." He softened at that, and he put his arm around her, letting her lean against him, as if he was giving her strength.

He couldn't believe that she was doing this. Here she was, the object of his obsession, leaning against him and holding his hand. She was warm, oh so warm. It was tempting, for him to just throw her down on the floor and take her right then and there.

It was getting hotter in the room, or was it just him? Teyla's other arm had linked around his waist, in a sort of hug. That was when he had to know. But she beat him to it.

"Major, I must admit something. I-" But he didn't need to know anymore. Matter of fact, it was he who snapped first. His obsession was right there, and he might not have another chance like this again. So he grabbed her face and crushed his lips to her.

She couldn't believe it. He was right there, and kissing her senseless. Her own hands began stroking his hair, all the way down to his neck, even as his own hands left her face to slide down her body.

* * *

There was no language that she knew that could describe this. Somehow, she felt the wall behind her and he was soon rubbing up against her, like a man possessed.

"Major . . ." she tried. His lips were everywhere, and taking her with them.

"John. Say it." He muttered in between kisses.

"John, we must stop." A hand underneath her skirt interrupted any more protests however.

"No." he simply said. "I know that you want this. The only difference? I need this." He carefully enunciated the need.

Her hands had a mind of their own as he kissed her again, harder and hungrier. Her hands skimmed his chest under his shirt before taking it off. She felt him smirk and let him take off her own.

The room seemed to be steaming, as if to hide them from any uninvited guest. Kicking off their shoes, both of their hands helped each other remove the last pieces of clothing that their bodies had on. When he had finished, he fingered her breasts, while teasing her entrance with soft rubs of his hardened bulge.

He somehow knew when she couldn't take anymore of the play. It was still a game, but the result of winning was very real. She felt so real, so hot, so wet. He gently slid into her, his mouth clamping onto hers to stop to urge to yell.

He moved hard, fast, deep. Each intrusion was met with an answer of her own. She met with him perfectly, he being a conductor and she being the instrument.

He felt her coming, and her cries being muffled by his mouth, she clenched around him, and he groaned as they both let go, their foreheads leaning against each other as they looked each other in the eye as they waited for the feeling to fade.

* * *

"We should dress." He broke the silence. She regarded him silently. Nodding, she picked up her things.

"Just know, Major." He silenced her with a look. She was still dressing with her back to him while she spoke.

"Just know, John." She amended. "That I didn't regret anything I did." A hand on her shoulder caused her to shut her mouth.

"Just know Teyla." He whispered. "Neither did I." He kissed her ear lightly and let her continue to dress.

Turning, she looked at him again, and seeing the honestly look in his eye, lifted an eyebrow to tease him.

"What do you say we do that again?" She took a step carefully closer, still wary of what he might do.

"What the hell? If we're lucky, Rodney will be making out with Weir more than working on the door problem." He lifted his eyebrows, and in a silent challenge, dared her to accept.

She could never back down.


End file.
